


you make my dreams

by glitteratiglue



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage, Weddings, i am an unrepentant sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:11:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteratiglue/pseuds/glitteratiglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing worth having is easy.</p><p>(Steve marries Bucky, and learns a few things along the way.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make my dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, this is tooth-rotting fluff and wedding-night porn, with a light sprinkling of angst on top. You're welcome.

Steve never expected to say the words like this. He never expected to say them at all, let alone flat on his back in a post-sex haze, Bucky draped across his chest and both of them bare-assed naked.

“Marry me, Bucky,” he says in a rush.

A laugh rumbles against Steve’s skin. Then Bucky lifts his head to look at him. “Oh, shit. You’re serious.”

Steve rolls onto his side, props himself up on an elbow. “Yeah.”

“Wait,” Bucky says, biting down on his lip, “I feel like I have to point out the obvious; I’ve just fucked you into a coma. You sure you’re in your right mind?”

“No. ” Steve huffs out a laugh. “I’m still asking, though,” he says, trying to sound confident even though his heart is beating a mile a minute.

“Gonna make an honest man out of me then, Rogers?” Bucky says, his eyes glinting.

“Why not?” Steve says, a slow smile growing on his face. “I mean, who else is gonna have an idiot like you?”

Bucky’s answering grin is lewd. “Thought you just did.”

Steve frowns, and pokes Bucky in the side. Abruptly, there are butterflies in the pit of his stomach. “Will you?” he asks, very quiet.

“Yeah, Steve,” Bucky says, his eyes soft. “Okay. I’ll marry you.”

*

Steve goes with Bucky to sort out the necessary paperwork.

“You’re the real thing,” the elderly clerk tells them, a knowing smile on her face. “A lot of people come through my doors, and they don’t have half the love you two obviously have for each other. I can see it."

“Been crazy about this punk since I was fifteen,” Bucky says, indicating Steve. “About time we made it official.”

Steve’s heart lurches. He makes a grab for Bucky’s left hand and holds on tight.

“Well, isn’t that sweet,” the clerk says. She stamps their freshly signed marriage license. “There we go.”

*

It’s nothing, Steve tells himself. He already shares his entire life with Bucky; marriage won’t change any of that.

In some ways, it feels like his life has come full circle. He’s living with Bucky in a small apartment in Brooklyn, and he’s as much in love with Bucky as he ever was (probably more, now they don’t have to be afraid and ashamed).

As the days count down to his impending nuptials, Steve can’t help but think of his mother.

Not long before her death, Sarah Rogers had told Steve how one day he’d find someone who was worthy of giving his heart to. Even if she wasn’t going to be there to see him marry, she’d look down from heaven and be proud of him (of course, back then, Steve was convinced he’d die a confirmed bachelor).

He should have believed her.

She might not have expected him to give his heart to Bucky, but Steve hopes his ma would still be proud of him.

*

They're walking back from the park when Steve says, “I can’t believe we’re doing this."

“Me neither.” Bucky slows his tread. He gestures to the corner store in front of them. “Hang on, we’re out of laundry soap. I’ll just be a sec.”

“Okay.”

Steve thinks about Bucky reading the instructions for their new washing machine, lips pursed in concentration; Bucky poring over the crossword on lazy Sunday mornings, a pen between his teeth; the warmth of Bucky’s body wrapped around him when they sleep, and he can’t help but smile.

He’s still wearing a silly grin on his face when Bucky returns, bottle of Tide in hand.

Bucky’s gaze is wary. “What’s gotten you so happy?” he says.

Steve taps his own nose. “Married couples need to have a few secrets, Buck,” he says, maddeningly calm. “It’s how you keep things interesting.”

Bucky plants a quick kiss on him. “That so?”

“Yup,” Steve says. His heart leaps at the fond smile on Bucky’s face.

He slips a hand into Bucky’s back pocket and keeps it there all the way home.

*

On the day, Steve is half-dressed in his penguin suit when his brain decides to have a crisis about the whole thing.

Maybe they’re making a mistake, maybe it’s too soon, maybe Bucky wasn’t totally serious about wanting to spend the rest of his life with Steve; Steve manages to come up with numerous reasons why he shouldn’t get married today. He’s hyperventilating by the time Natasha bangs on the bathroom door, demanding to know what’s taking him so long.

It’s only thanks to Sam and Natasha that Steve manages to pull himself together and show up on time.

Tony and Pepper have outdone themselves. The small room on the top floor of Avengers Tower is decked out in white flowers, and their friends are waiting.

Bucky is there already, a shy smile on his face.

Steve looks at him, and the cause of his earlier anxiety attack becomes clear.

He realises he wasn’t freaking out because he doesn’t want to marry Bucky. It was because he  _does_  want to _,_  and up until this moment, he hadn’t realised how much.

Bucky’s palm is sweaty when he puts his hand in Steve’s, but his grip is steady and unwavering. Steve takes deep breaths and focuses on holding Bucky’s hand.

He can do this. _They_ can do this.

Thor performs the ceremony — he did go to all the trouble of getting himself officiated — with his usual aplomb.

The Asgardian wedding vows needed a little bit of rewriting — there were some sections regarding immortality and exchanging goats that Steve didn’t feel were particularly relevant — but they do the job nicely.

In front of their friends, Steve and Bucky repeat the life-changing words and exchange rings.

At the end of it all, Thor raises Mjölnir and says grandly, “You may now kiss your groom.”

Steve doesn’t need telling twice. He takes Bucky’s face in his hands tenderly, and presses a kiss to his mouth. It’s brief and chaste, but still achingly intimate.

“We’re  _married_ ,” Bucky breathes. His eyes are full of wonder.

“How’d I get stuck with you, jerk?” Steve mutters, but he’s already smiling.

Bucky wraps a hand around the back of Steve’s neck and kisses him again.

Everyone starts clapping and cheering.

Bucky curls his fingers into Steve’s palm, and Steve can feel the cool metal of Bucky’s wedding band on his skin. Warmth unfurls in Steve’s chest, spreading throughout his body from head to toe.

He’s married Bucky.

*

They slip away from their own party at Avengers Tower the first chance they get.

Back at their apartment, Steve tangles his fingers in Bucky’s hair and kisses him, deep and thorough. 

“How’d you like being married so far, Buck?” he asks, teasing.

In answer, Bucky squeezes Steve’s ass with his metal fingers. “Nobody told me getting hitched was gonna be such a turn-on," he says, grinning.

It makes Steve’s breath catch, to think that Bucky’s  _his_ , that they stood up in front of everyone they care about and made promises to each other.

By the time they end up on their bed, naked and panting, Steve can hardly wait. He slicks up his fingers and reaches down, fully prepared to get himself ready, when Bucky says, “No.”

Steve nods in understanding. He slides two fingers into the tight heat of Bucky, until Bucky’s groaning softly and closing his eyes.

“Now,” Bucky chokes out, and Steve can’t wait any longer.

He lets his fingers slip out, slicks up his cock and leans back against the pillows. Bucky clambers on top of him, spreads his knees so they’re pressed into Steve’s sides. Then he stops, and looks at Steve.

“Said ‘end of the line’, didn’t I,” Bucky says, very soft, his palm curving around Steve's cheek. “I meant it, Steve. Being married to you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, hands down.” His wedding band catches on Steve’s skin.

Bucky's eyes are blue and clear, and Steve feels like his throat’s seized up. “Really,” he says. He spreads his hands out on Bucky’s back, kneading the warm curve of his spine. “I mean, they  _did_  make all those Disney movies while we were in the ice. I’m surprised getting married to your best guy even made the top ten of best things.”

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Rogers," Bucky murmurs, leaning in to kiss Steve, and then — God — he’s sinking down on him, letting out a quiet moan into Steve’s mouth. Bucky's so wet inside, so hot that it makes Steve groan, low and broken.

When Bucky starts to move with a punishing pace, all Steve can do is follow, pushing back at him helplessly. The bed’s creaking with every thrust, and they aren’t kissing so much as breathing wetly into each other’s mouths.

Then Bucky grinds down on Steve, whispers, “I love you,” and Steve arches and comes harder than he has in his whole goddamn life.

Wanting to bring Bucky along with him, Steve wraps a trembling hand around Bucky’s dick and strokes, until Bucky comes in a wet, sticky rush all over both their stomachs.

“Buck,” Steve says, his fingertips slipping on Bucky’s sweat-slick back. Bucky’s still settled atop his thighs, breathing heavily. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“Yeah.” Bucky reaches for Steve’s hand, twining their fingers together. Their rings bump.

Steve’s pretty sure being married to Bucky is the best thing in the entire world.

*

They're too busy with Avenging to have time for a honeymoon.

Steve doesn't mind all that much. At the end of his long days, he gets to curl up with Bucky on the couch and burrow into his warmth, the soft light of their TV flickering in the background.

Sometimes, Steve looks down at his wedding ring and he can't stop smiling.

*

Before they got married, Bucky used to spend the odd night in the spare bedroom. He’s three years and a lot of therapy from where he started, but occasionally, the nightmares still resurface. Those nights, Bucky can’t bear to be in the bed with Steve, and Steve is used to letting him have his own space when he needs it.

So he’s surprised when, three months later, Bucky suggests getting rid of the extra bed.

“We’ll turn it into an office,” he says brightly, placing a plate of eggs in front of Steve. “You’re always saying you need more space for your art. We could get you an easel, maybe one of those nice big drafting tables.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “You sure, Buck?”

“Yeah.” Bucky smiles and sinks into the chair opposite to eat his own breakfast.

The eggs are rubbery — like they always are when Bucky cooks them — but Steve eats them anyway, along with the slightly-burnt toast, and says, “Thanks, Buck. Great breakfast,” because he’s pretty sure that’s what you say when your husband cooks for you.

At least there are other benefits to being married. Bucky can’t seem to keep his hands off Steve; that old adage about newlyweds really is true.

*

Fury leans in across the table, steepling his fingers. “It’s gonna be dangerous,” he says, grave. “That’s why we want you, Romanoff. And Barnes.”

He gestures to Bucky.

Steve’s heart clenches. He doesn’t like this.

Before he can think, he says, “You sure you really want Barnes on this mission, Fury? I don’t know if his skill set really matches the specs. Someone else might be better.”

He’s clutching at straws, he knows it, but the thought of Bucky in danger —

“Steve,” Natasha murmurs warningly, her hand on his arm.

Tony’s eyes bug out. He looks like he’s making a supreme effort not to speak.

“Thanks for your input, Cap,” Fury says, deadpan, swiping a hand over the holotable. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Steve is afraid to look at Bucky.

The meeting wraps up quickly.

As soon as the others leave the room, Bucky immediately rounds on Steve. “What the  _fuck_  was that, Rogers?” he hisses.

The apology is on the tip of Steve’s tongue, but determination kicks in before he can get the words out. He finds himself squaring his shoulders, meeting Bucky’s gaze with a tight-lipped expression.

“Excuse me for actually caring about what happens to you,” he says.

“Caring, yeah,” Bucky says, and he’s not far from shouting. “But you don’t get to humiliate me like that. Even if we are married now. All that bullshit about my skills?” He takes a deep breath, then says, quieter, “You know about all the bad stuff I did, before. Thought I was finally done feeling ashamed about it all, but the way you undermined me in that room, Steve — it felt like you didn’t have one bit of respect for me.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. He hadn’t meant it like that, not a bit. “No, Bucky,” he starts to say, “I do respect you, I  —”

Bucky’s lips twist into a hard smile. “Sure didn’t feel like it.”

He shoulders past Steve to leave the room, heavy boots thumping on the carpet with every step.

Anger flares hot in Steve's chest. “Don’t wait up,” he calls after Bucky, before he can stop himself.

*

Steve’s mother always said marriage was hard work — worth it, but hard work just the same.

He'd never understood what she meant, not until now.

His heart feels like it’s breaking in two.

*

It’s times like these Steve wishes he could get drunk. He’s going to try anyway.

“I really fucked up, didn’t I?” he says to Natasha, head in his hands. He’d gone crawling to her suite as soon as he realised what he’d done.

“Well.” She pours out two shots of vodka. “Yeah. You basically pulled the protective-husband card. You embarrassed him in front of Nick Fury.”

Steve’s cheeks are burning. He gets to his feet. “I should go home, explain, tell him I —”

Natasha’s grip on his arm is gentle, but firm. “Not yet, Steve. Give him some space.”

He sits back down.

Steve downs his vodka, wincing at the burn. “You know, being an Avenger is an insanely dangerous job,” he says, as if he’s only just realised it.

“Tell me about it.” Natasha arches an eyebrow, knocks back her own drink. “And on government wages, too.”

Eight shots apiece later, Steve has talked Natasha’s ear off about Bucky and she’s slurring her words, head resting on his shoulder.

“I’m going to bed,” she says slowly, swaying a little as she stands. “You’d better do the same. Go and talk to Bucky.”

*

The door to the spare bedroom is closed when Steve gets home.

It’s not like they haven’t had fights before. Steve has always known the only person more stubborn than him is Bucky, but in the past, they’ve worked it out (usually with a few slammed doors and raised voices along the way, followed by gratifying make-up sex).

But Bucky has never shut himself away like this. Steve has no idea how to fix it.

Now they’re married, everything seems different. He's supposed to understand Bucky better than himself, but apparently he doesn’t know him at all.

Steve goes to bed alone, and tosses and turns most of the night.

He wonders if Bucky's doing the same.

*

Fury calls the next morning to say he’s reconsidered — he’s decided Captain America’s skills probably  _would_  fit the mission better.

Bucky’s expression is thunderous. He doesn’t look at Steve.

*

Steve attends a long and tedious mission briefing.

Afterwards, he finds his way to Tony and Pepper’s suite for brunch. He’d originally been planning to go with Bucky, and Pepper and Tony exchange a knowing look when they see Steve is alone.

Several mimosas later, Steve ends up pouring his heart out to Pepper about the whole sorry mess. Tony is watching Dum-E load the dishwasher and trying to pretend he isn’t listening at the same time.

“It’s your first married fight,” Pepper says. She looks fondly at the wedding band on her own hand. “I remember ours. Tony pretended he was too busy to meet my parents when they were in town, but really he was terrified they’d hate him, and he chickened out of it. I was furious _._ ”

Behind them, Tony whistles low. Steve turns to look at him.

“She didn’t speak to me for a week,” Tony says, with a grimace. “I have actually met them, since. Her dad gave me a number for his therapist.”

Dum-E chirps, and Tony glares at it. “Don’t you go getting all smug on me. Who just tried to put the heirloom crystal decanter in the dishwasher?” The robot’s answering chirp is more subdued this time.

Steve stares miserably at the remains of his eggs and bacon on sourdough. It’s a good breakfast — much better than the ones Bucky usually makes — and he would have eaten the entire thing already, except he’s got no appetite right now.

Pepper’s small hand covers his. “It can’t be that bad,” she says gently. “Just swallow your pride and say you’re sorry.”

Tony comes out from behind the counter, Dum-E trailing in his wake. “Um, it was pretty bad. I was there.”

Pepper glares at him. “Not helping, Tony.”

“He thinks I don’t accept him for who he is,” Steve says, looking away. “You can’t get much worse than that.”

Tony rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Flowers,” he says. “And a lot of unselfish sex. Worked for me, anyway.”

Pepper says nothing, but she’s obviously trying not to smile.

Steve doesn’t think he has much of a chance of ever getting into Bucky’s pants again, but he says, “Thanks. I guess.”

Dum-E rolls towards Steve, and makes an unmistakeably encouraging sound.

“Talk to him, Steve,” Pepper says, reaching out to pat Dum-E. “Marriage isn't easy, but that’s the most important thing. Talking.”

*

Steve doesn’t talk to Bucky. He gets used to sleeping in an empty bed.

Five days pass with the two of them moving around the apartment like strangers, and every day it gets harder for Steve to say the words trapped in his throat.

 _I’m sorry. I love you._ The words don't seem adequate, but they're all he’s got.

It won't be enough, Steve’s sure. He keeps his teeth together.

*

Two days before Steve is due to go on the planned mission, the Avengers are summoned to a distress call in Hudson.

Terrorists have rigged an apartment block with enough explosives to level the small city. Tony defuses most of the devices, but has to abandon the rest because there simply isn’t time.

Bucky, Sam and Natasha take charge of getting the civilians out of the building. It’s a bit of a rush, but they manage it.

Everyone else is out, and Steve is checking for any remaining survivors when he hears a faint barking sound. He sprints towards the source and finds a small, terrified ball of fur cowering in a corner.

“This place is gonna blow. Get out,  _now,_ ” Natasha says urgently over the comm.

Steve scoops up the dog and starts running down the stairs.

There’s a panicked shout of _“Steve!”_ in his earpiece: it’s Bucky.

Steve runs faster. He’ll get back to Bucky, and they’ll talk, and  —

He’s still forty stories up when there’s a bright flash, and the floor goes from underneath his feet.

*

Steve blinks awake. His eyelids feel stuck together, and his mouth is desert-dry.

He tries to move, and grimaces at the sharp pain in his abdomen. Looking to his left, he can see Bucky curled up in a chair, fast asleep with his chin on his hand. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Bucky,” Steve tries to say, but his voice is so weak the words are barely audible. He clears his throat and tries again. “Bucky.”

Bucky's eyes open. “Steve,” he says. He’s instantly out of the chair, sitting on the bed next to Steve and taking his face in his hands. “Oh, God. You're awake.”

Steve can hardly breathe, and not just because of the burning in his ribs. Bucky is here, Bucky loves him, and suddenly, nothing else matters — not his stupid pride, not whatever the hell it was they were arguing about to begin with.

“I’m sorry,” Steve rasps out, slowly.

“Not as sorry as I am,” Bucky says weakly. His thumbs stroke down the side of Steve’s face, very carefully. “Look, I know we’re pair of stubborn assholes, but we’re married now. We’ve gotta sort that shit out.”

“Okay,” Steve says. He squints against the headache starting up behind his temples.

Then Bucky pulls back and says, “You self-sacrificing  _dick._ I could kill you. Except that bomb nearly did it for me.”

Steve wants to laugh, but his body aches too much to try. “Oh. It went off, then?”

Bucky is still touching him, fingers pressed to Steve’s wrist, carefully avoiding the cannula in his hand. “Yeah. You fell forty stories. Nearly got cut in half by a piece of scaffolding.”

Steve can believe it; he can feel the bandages on his stomach, and the protests from his ribs every time he tries to move. There's so much he wants to say, heartfelt words welling up in his throat, but all that comes out is: “You can’t cook worth shit, Buck."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Don’t you think I know that? I was just trying to be a good husband. Sure messed that one up.” After a beat, he says, “I’ll try to be a better one, okay?”

“I will, too,” Steve says. He's starting to feel a little hazy. “And I won’t ever try and talk Fury out of sending you on a mission again. Even if you have to fight Dr Doom and HYDRA and an entire Chitauri army all at the same time, I won’t say a word.”

There’s a strange look on Bucky’s face; for a moment he looks like he’s going to cry, but then he smiles.

“I say we make a deal,” Bucky says thickly, wiping at his eyes. “We be ourselves. Seems to me we’re best like that.”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve agrees.

Suddenly, a low whine cuts through the silence. There's a sheepish look on Bucky's face.

“Bucky,” Steve says, “is that —”

Bucky whistles. A bedraggled, furry creature comes out from under the chair and trots to the bedside.

It’s the dog from the building. Steve laughs until he's breathless with the pain. “I almost forgot,” he says, stretching out a hand to pat the soft fur. “Thank God he's okay.”

The dog licks Steve’s hand. Its tail wags.

"See?" Bucky grins. “Even the dog's a Captain America fan.” He pauses. “You know, nobody's managed to trace the owners. Do you think we could —”

And Steve’s never been much of a dog person, but when he sees the hopeful smile on Bucky’s face, he says, “Fine. We’re keeping him.”

“It’s a her, actually,” Bucky says, scratching between the dog’s ears with his metal fingers. She makes a pleased noise.

“Lucky,” Steve says decisively. “That’s her name.”

“Fitting.” Bucky nods. “We done fighting, then?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes wet and his heart feeling several sizes too big for his chest. “You know what they say. Marriage is for life, and all that. It’s my own bad luck I ended up marrying a jerk like you.”

Bucky brushes the tears from Steve’s cheeks with his thumbs, and gently presses his mouth to Steve’s. “You ain’t getting rid of me that easily, punk.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. I don't know why there's a dog. I just...yeah. Squint for the reference to Lucky the Pizza Dog.
> 
> Title by Hall and Oates.
> 
> I also exist on [tumblr](http://glitteratiglue.tumblr.com).


End file.
